


Sparks Fly (A Quicksilver/Reader Songfic)

by FlaxFlame



Category: Sparks Fly - Taylor Swift (Song), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, First Crush, Fluff, Friendship/Love, How Do I Tag, Male-Female Friendship, Quicksilver x Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Romance, Songfic, Sparks Fly, X-Men: Days of Future Past Spoilers, peter maximoff - Freeform, quicksilver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaxFlame/pseuds/FlaxFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Maximoff and you, a fellow mutant have grown up with each other. Together, you find ways to control your powers and who knows, maybe even fall in love along the way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. reckless

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic - super hyped for this! I was inspired while listening to one of my favourite songs of all time. I'll update when I get further inspiration. Enjoy :D  
>  _~Sandy_

_The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm_  
_And I'm a house of cards_  
_You're the kind of reckless_  
_That should send me runnin'_  
_But I kinda know that I won't get far_

I remember looking out of my window and watching you play in the rain... again.

You were a silver-and-black blur, running round in circles at superhuman speed as the raindrops fell. The whirlpool you formed snaked upwards, rotating wildly as you ran, uprooting the small bushes and flowers in your backyard - a storm within a storm.

I couldn't see your face, but I was willing to bet that you had your trademark cocky grin on your face, your brown eyes sparkling defiantly as always. Even at ten years old, you seemed completely fearless, not even scared of the fact that the neighbours might have been watching you, that they would have kept six feet away from you at all times, giving you dirty glances while muttering under their breath about how mutants were a threat to national security.

Like they did to me.

It started with me walking by the TV and changing the channels without touching it. Then the exploded power sockets in the house, the day I put the entire district off the grid for two days, the toppled electricity pylons along the street, the fact that no one could go within two feet of me without being thrown into convulsions as I helplessly electrocuted their nerve endings.

I shook my head in disbelief, but kept watching you anyway. You were a symbol of the freedom I could never have, the only person I had ever showed my powers to, because you were the only one on the street I trusted. Apart from that, I kept myself mostly in my room, not wanting to face a world that both hated and feared people like us. I swore never to use my powers again, but they were near impossible to control. If there was some way - any way, to remove them, I'd take it any day.

And then I looked back at the window, and saw you standing in the midst of all the chaos, your shoulder-length silver hair whipping around your face. You shot me a gap-toothed grin. _Hey, Y/N. Cool, huh?_ you mouthed.

_Oh yeah, totally!_ I nodded enthusiastically.

You pointed at me. _Your turn, Blackout._

_Don't call me that!_ I shook my head, alarmed at the electrical sparks that were suddenly emitting from my fingers. I put my hands to the window to show him, then quickly sat on them to prevent starting another fire. _It's too dangerous._ I'm _too dangerous._

I closed the curtains before you could reply.


	2. touch

_And you stood there in front of me_  
_Just close enough to touch_  
_Close enough to hope you couldn’t see_  
_What I was thinking of_

I remember trying to find a surge protector, something that would prevent me from short-circuiting all your stolen games machines. I didn’t dare to hope for anything more.

We were smart enough to know that making an electrokinetic mutant try on various types of non-fireproof gloves on a dry summer night, next to a house (with your little sister Lorna playing in the kitchen) without a fire extinguisher wasn’t the smartest idea in the world. 

But I was definitely desperate enough to try.

“Whoa!” You jumped back as the oven mitts I was wearing burst into flames. Not that you needed to. You were already standing the required two feet away from me. The fire was different on this one - it flickered up my arms like ribbons. You stared at them, transfixed, the light turning your eyes a dazzling shade of amber. I had the sudden urge to make that color into a pen or something, or better yet, bottle it up so I’d never forget it. 

I shook my head in frustration and waited for the fire to extinguish itself. It didn’t do much except make me feel so powerful, yet at the same time, so useless. How could the universe or the genetic pool or whatever given me the power to blow any fuse I got close to but no possible way to control it? 

You were talking animatedly, going especially fast whenever you made a point. I loved the way your face lit up whenever you were excited. “But seriously though, Blackout, you’re way cool. I mean, it’s like, you just touch anything and bam! It explodes or burns up or –“

I scraped the charred remains of the mitts off my hands onto the trash pile, which consisted of the remains of gloves of every imaginable type you had rustled from who knows where. I looked at you blankly. “Dies?” I said quietly, but not sadly. What was the point of being sad over something that happened all the time?

You were right in front of me, an arm’s length away. Just enough for you to reach out and touch my face, to hug me and tell me everything would be okay, to look at me, God, look at me close enough to know you were special to me. 

You were so close, yet so painfully, damnably, impossibly far.

“Y/N.“ you said, your voice unusually calm. “I don’t care about what you’ve done. I’m going to help you control your powers, I swear. Just, to be honest, I don’t know how to help you when you’re so powerful–“

The worst thing about you was that you were right nearly all the time. I sat down opposite you, buried my face in my already numb hands and for the zillionth time in my life, cursed the personal purgatory most people called ‘gifts’. 

The back door of the house opened suddenly. Your little sister stepped out. “Y/N!” she called. “I made something for you!” 

I looked up, temporarily forgetting my problem. “Oh, hey, Lorna. What is it?”

“This!” She showed me her arms, which were covered with multicolored, chunky bracelets, each one seemingly woven or tied together. “I made some for you! Peter doesn’t like them, so I’m going to give them to you.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

“She has an entire freaking shelf full of them. All her friends are doing it. I don’t even get why. It’s actually pretty stupid,” you said, rolling your eyes. I laughed at Lorna’s failed attempt to tackle you as you just zipped out of her reach, poking her when she tripped over. She got up and ran back into the house, scowling at you.

A few seconds later, she reemerged with about ten bracelets on the end of a long wooden stick. “Here you go, Y/N! They’re _all_ for you.” She pointed the stick towards me, giving another glare in your direction.

I shrugged and started taking bracelets off the end of the stick. They were actually really pretty, for something that was just made out of what felt like rubber bands. I started putting them on one by one, marveling at your sister’s crafting abilities. I put them all on just to amuse her. They reached halfway up my arms. You snorted with laughter. “Do you even know what you look like?”

I ignored him. “Thanks, Lorna!” I called back “I really love – aargh!” She had just lost control of the stick and had accidentally knocked my legs out from under me. I saw you right in front of me, and my last coherent thought was, _run!_

Call it instinct, call it forgetfulness, call it plain stupidity, but you reached out and caught me by the arms instead of speeding off like you usually would, then doubling up with laughter as I tried to grab you but never could. 

For a short, sweet second, we were holding on to each other, gazing into each other’s eyes like we were the only people to exist in the world. Then a small fact registered in my mind.

_He caught you, you idiot! He_ caught _you!_

“You okay, Blackout?” you finally asked. I nodded, taking a deep breath. We both stared at the incredibly thick rubber-band bracelets on my wrists, then burst out laughing.

You raised your right hand, your palm towards me.

And for the first time in my life, I did a high-five.


	3. better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually a revision of the original plot I had for this chapter. I exchanged it for this much fluffier one. Enjoy :D

_My mind forgets to remind me_   
_You’re a bad idea_   
_You touch me once and it’s really something_   
_You find I’m even better than you imagined I would be_

_I’m on my guard for the rest of the world_   
_But with you, I know it’s no good_   
_And I could wait patiently_   
_But I really wish you would…_

 

“What do you mean, you broke him out of prison?”

“’You’ is a personal pronoun. In this case, it means me, Peter Maximoff. ‘Broke’ is a verb –“ 

“Shut up, I know!” I resisted the urge to kick you off the cushion you were sitting on. “Are you sure it was that guy?” I pointed to the television screen, where a dark-haired man in a helmet and cape who tried to murder the president had made a speech about how mutants should rise up and rule the world. 

Lorna, who had been sitting on your lap until then, sensed an argument was brewing and scampered upstairs. You looked up at me. Your face was an impossible mixture of pride at pulling off a jailbreak, shock at the speech you’d just heard, and embarrassment at getting into trouble with me. “If I say yes?”

I collapsed on the couch behind you, suddenly feeling extremely tired. This sounded exactly like the kind of insanely idiotic thing you’d do. I took off a few of my bracelets and waved my hand at the television, switching it off. 

You got off your cushion and sat next to me. I cast a glance at you, my head starting to hurt. “Blackout, listen –“ you started.

“There’s only one thing I’m gonna listen to,” I said quietly. “Just what the hell did you do?” 

You went off like a machine gun, starting from the time, in your words, “a telepath-not-telepath, a guy with disgusting claws and a nerd got into the basement.” You didn’t even notice when Lorna crept back downstairs to listen, sitting in front of the sofa.

As you went on, the scenes you described started playing in my head like a movie. I imagined you sprinting around a hundred floors beneath the Pentagon like a crazed cheetah on steroids, knocking entire corridors of people over, rearranging fired bullets, even stealing a guard’s cap. The whole story was so weird, you couldn’t have made it up. I would have killed myself laughing if the situation hadn’t been so serious. _Y/N, we’re supposed to be scared here,_ I told myself sternly.

“I don’t believe you, Peter,” Lorna said loudly, after you had finished. She folded her arms in little-girl disbelief.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” You grinned and reached behind the sofa cushions, completely unfazed. “Well, here’s the cap.” You pulled it out, showed us the FBI logo and put it on her head, the goofy grin still on your face.

For a brief moment, Lorna and I were stunned into silence. Lorna’s eyes were wide, her mouth open. She took off the cap and examined it again, then put it down and walked away in astonishment.

I shook my head and put my hand over my face, wondering how you could ever be proud of assisting a jailbreak for a guy who was threatening to start a revolution. But I had to admit you’d used your powers well, even if it was for something as insane as that. I wondered if I’d ever be able to do the same. 

I fiddled with my bracelets, which were up to my elbows. “Isn’t there somewhere I don’t have to worry about any of this? Like, where I can learn how to control my powers, be useful for a change?”

“Blackout. Stop asking stupid questions already. You can play Pong without touching the machine.” You shrugged. “That’s pretty useful to me.”

“No, seriously,” I said. “You’ll never be actually safe with me until I can control my powers, keep them down until I need to use them. So that’s why no one wants me. Except maybe you. I guess that makes you my best friend, even if you are the only one. ”

“Oh, come on,” You wrapped your arms around my shoulders and pulled me closer to you. I sunk into the warmth of your side gratefully. Your touch made the room a little less bleak, making my future seem brighter somehow. “I’ll be fine. And I wouldn’t give a damn even if you fried my brain cells every time we touched, ‘cause I’m already crazy enough about you. You know, I never wanted anything in my life that I couldn’t stand losing. Guess it’s too late for that.” You took a deep breath. “Blackout. Y/N. You’re officially the most fun I’ve ever had without getting arrested. Fact.”

Sparks flew in my brain at your unusual yet sincere way of saying you loved me. I slipped off a blue bracelet and put it on your wrist, admiring how it brought out the intense brown of your eyes. “Since when have you ever gotten arrested, hmm, speedy?”

“Stupid question!” You sped away playfully before I could jab you in the ribs. I laughed and ran after you, knowing you would let me catch you and tickle you in the end.

I – we - may not have been safe. Not here, not anywhere. Not with the world outside and their anti-mutant rallies, treaties and God knows what else. Not with a crazy metal-bending guy who was trying to raise an army for world domination, and looked pretty serious about it too.

But we were safe with each other, and that was enough.


	4. lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of Sparks Fly! I'm actually planning to make an " x reader" series based on all the songs in Taylor Swift's album Speak Now. It'll probably be a mix of oneshots and longer stories, and I think I'll start accepting requests.
> 
> Comment to tell me what you guys think, I'd really love to hear any feedback you have!

_Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain_

_Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain_

_'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile_

_Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down_

_Give me something that'll haunt me when I'm not around_

_'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile_

___________________________________________________

I remember the sprawling castle of a school, lit up by the setting sun. The sheer size of the place made me feel tiny. Rainclouds hovered in the sky, signalling the oncoming rain, the first we'd had in a few months.

I walked across the grassy field with my backpack, barely noticing the pain in my legs. I was amazed at how normal things were here. People were just hanging around, having fun. A couple sat under a tree, chatting excitedly. The boy was turning the leaves around his feet into tiny ice sculptures, making the girl laugh. In the distance, a dark-haired girl in a yellow coat shot bursts of colored light into the air, forming popping heart shapes as the group of kids surrounding her oohed and aahed. The whole scene wouldn't have looked out of place on a TV commercial for this school.

Near the light-shooting girl, I saw a guy with an over-decorated cast on his leg sitting on the ground, a pair of crutches beside him. He was feeding slices of pizza to a dog in his arms. Then I saw the unmistakable flash of light on silver hair.

"Peter!"

"Blackout!" You struggled to get to your feet.

Our voices sounded simultaneously over the field. People looked up at you, then at me. I heard whispers coming from all around.

"So that's Blackout."

"Are those, like, rubber bands?"

"She's here. Ha, about time! Now will he shut up about her?"

I ran across the field, the pain in my legs disappearing completely. The first drops of rain began to fall from the sky. Everyone in the field had stopped whatever they were doing, but no one went back inside.

Later, they'd tell me what they saw.

The dying light, throwing rainbows into the air. The tiny volts of electricity popping in the atmosphere, running down my arms into my bracelets. Raindrops flashing and glittering on my jacket and sneakers. The heat of the ground turning the droplets to steam around my feet. And the rain itself, the glorious, cascading mass of water, refracting light off every inch of me in a million directions, in a million colors, brighter than any firework show.

And you, standing in the middle of the field, propped up on your crutches with your windswept silver hair and oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt, your mouth hanging slightly open, shaking your head in disbelief.

Long, long, live that look on your face.

I skidded to a stop at your feet. "I came as soon as I heard," I said breathlessly. "Your mom's still mad at you for running off and breaking your leg. Lorna misses you, you idiot. Do you have any idea – "

You put a finger on my lips, effectively cutting me off. Butterflies immediately flew into my stomach. If love were volts, you'd have been a living power plant.

"Peter?"

You replaced your finger with your lips, effectively electrifying my whole world.

If it was at all possible for my mind to turn to mush, it did. I was lost in ecstasy, the warmth of you body against mine. I could hear your friends breaking into wolf-whistles and cheers as I ran my fingers through your hair, the lights going wild around us. You pulled me closer to you, the scent of clean wind and pizza engulfing me as I drowned in you once again.

After what seemed like an eternity, we broke apart to breathe, our noses still touching, your hands on my waist.

"So, how long will you be staying?" you asked, grinning like a little kid. For a brief moment, I was reminded of another evening eight years ago, where you were the rainstorm to my house of cards.

I looked up at you, noticing for the first time the way your unruly hair fell over your eyes, the awkward way your mouth curved up whenever you smiled. Your turn, Blackout, you seemed to say.

I wasn't going to close the curtains on you ever again.

"Who says I'm planning to leave?"


End file.
